


Flashing Lights of Blue and Green

by CommanderCryptic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Bad Touch Trio | Bad Friend Trio, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Humor, Laser Tag, M/M, Prompt Fic, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:21:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28467489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderCryptic/pseuds/CommanderCryptic
Summary: “No.”“What?! I didn’t even ask, yet!”“But you were going to.”Alfred pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, live a little, Artie!”“No! I told you, I’m busy,” Arthur said indignantly. “I have three essays and a major presentation due by the end of the week, Alfred. There’s no time to waste.”It’s not like Alfred didn’t understand that his roommate had things to do. They were in university, for God’s sake. But what Alfred knew and what Arthur couldn’t seem to understand was the fact that sometimes, you just need to take a break.And what better way to take a break than to engage in an activity that was guaranteed to be both exciting and exhausting for the two?The activity in question was laser tag, of course.What else would it be?Surrounded by flashing lights and shining colors, Alfred realizes that his impulsive decision-making would actually be of benefit.Inspired by a fic prompt on Tumblr.
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia)
Kudos: 10





	Flashing Lights of Blue and Green

**Author's Note:**

> Ahhhhh it's New Year's Eve! I started working on this last night, so it's a miracle that I got it done this quick. I was hoping to publish something else for New Year's, though I wanted to do it before the clock struck twelve. Oh, well. I've still got four more hours!   
> Enjoy this cute little USUK fic, everyone. Also, laser tag is incredible and should be treated as such.

“No.”

“What?! I didn’t even ask, yet!”

“But you were going to.”

Alfred pouted and crossed his arms over his chest. “C’mon, live a little, Artie!”

“No! I told you, I’m busy,” Arthur said indignantly, not even looking up from his laptop screen. “I have three essays and a major presentation due by the end of the week, Alfred. There’s no time to waste.”

“Not even just a little bit?” Alfred asked.

Arthur said nothing, with the sound of his keyboard replacing what Alfred wished was an enthusiastic, ‘Hey, I changed my mind! Let’s do it!’ 

But in what universe could wishes come true?

Alfred whined, griped, then whined some more. He really didn’t mean to be acting so childishly, but he couldn’t help it. When he wanted something, he wanted something. Although, the means of getting what he wanted could be quite irritating to others at times. 

It’s not like Alfred didn’t understand that his roommate had things to do. They were in university, for God’s sake. There was  _ always  _ something to do; whether you like it or not. But what Alfred knew and what Arthur couldn’t seem to understand was the fact that sometimes, you just need to take a break. 

And what better way to take a break than to engage in an activity that was guaranteed to be both exciting and exhausting for the two?

The activity in question was laser tag, of course. 

What else would it be?

Apparently, Alfred was more of a child at heart than he’d like to admit to himself. Laser tag was one of the best parts of his childhood, and he was determined to partake in it even as a 21-year-old man. And, naturally, Alfred hoped to share the fun with his closest friend and roommate, Arthur Kirkland. 

Unfortunately for him, Arthur had a giant stick up his ass. 

There was also the fact that Arthur had been acting really odd around him for the past few weeks. The Brit would get all flustered at the silliest of things involving Alfred— whether it be the accidental brushing of hands or physical closeness overall. It was getting to the point where Arthur’s face seemed to be in a perpetual state of redness if Alfred was nearby. Alfred had theorized that Arthur was sick with something, though the idea was completely rejected by the green-eyed man every time it was brought up (which was actually quite often.)

Sometimes, when he wasn’t being strange and awkward, Arthur would just avoid Alfred altogether. 

It was frustrating, to say the least. 

“You’re such an old man, sometimes,” Alfred commented, poking his roommate on the cheek playfully. 

And, there it was again. Arthur turned bright red and jerked his head to the side, trying to distance himself from Alfred as much as possible without leaving his seat. “S-stop doing things like that, you idiot!”

Alfred’s eyes widened in surprise. He was a pretty affectionate person, and his physical affection wasn’t restricted to his romantic relationships alone. Arthur had never minded, before. 

_ Or maybe he did?  _

“Um... sorry, I guess,” Alfred apologized, still a little confused. However, it sounded a lot more like a question than a statement. 

Arthur stopped typing for a moment; Alfred couldn't exactly tell what he was thinking. The odd flush seemed to leave his cheeks, and his large eyebrows were drawn together in…  _ guilt? _

Suddenly, the laptop was slammed shut. Arthur rubbed his eyes and spun around in his office chair. The crease between his brows was gone, but he certainly wasn’t grinning either. “Fine. I’ll come with you,” he said in a way that made him seem more reluctant than he actually was. “This better be quick, okay?”

Alfred beamed, his cerulean eyes lit up in childlike excitement. “Aw, sweet! Let’s go!”   


* * *

The lobby of the arena was nothing special, though Alfred knew full well that there was much more magic stored beyond the gate— magic that required 7 dollars a person to access. 

Arthur begrudgingly removed his wallet from his back pocket, shuffling through it for a few seconds, and removing a 20-dollar-bill. He slammed it on the countertop a little too hard, causing the angsty-looking, probably-a-17-year-old, employee to flinch. “There. I’m expecting the change.”

“Whoa, dude! I could’ve paid, y’know. That’s what heroes do!” Alfred reminded, reaching out to retract the money that Arthur had set down.

“Nonsense. I might as well,” Arthur insisted. “Besides, I  _ know _ you. You probably spent your last buck on that hamburger at lunch.” 

Alfred pursed his lips, looking at the ground sheepishly. He forgot about that. But it would be embarrassing for him to offer to pay and then reach into his wallet only to find it was empty. 

"Haha... I guess you really do know me, huh?"

Arthur quirked his lips upwards in a small smile— a rare gesture coming from him. "Obviously." 

"Um, I hate to interrupt, but we still need, like, three more people to complete both teams," interjected the employee. 

"Guess we gotta wait." Alfred sighed, ready to plop himself down on the small bench near the admission desk. 

Suddenly, the front doors were thrown open dramatically, revealing three figures.

"There is no need to wait,  _ mes amies _ !" one of them cried. 

" _ Ja _ ! The awesomeness has already arrived," declared another one. 

Arthur didn't know whether he wanted to smash his head into the nearest wall, punch himself in the face, or die. Possibly all three, in chronological order.

"Those idiots..." Arthur murmured, glaring at the trio with contempt, directing most of the anger towards the man with blonde hair. 

The Bad Touch Trio (or The Awesomeness United Trio, or  _ Los Hombres Calientes _ Trio, the name was a topic of dispute) was a group of three particularly mischievous students (or as Arthur liked to call them, morons) at Sekai University who took pleasure in inconveniencing the poor Brit whenever possible. When Francis was involved, it was usually on purpose. 

"Oh, hey, I didn't know you guys were coming!" Alfred said, his enthusiasm never faltering in the slightest. 

“Alfred? Arthur? My, what a coincidence to see you both here!” Francis said with a fake gasp, trying to act surprised. 

“Coincidence, my  _ arse _ ,” Arthur scoffed. He pointed an accusatory finger at Francis. “You planned this out!” 

“Psh, we’ve got no idea what you’re talking about,” insisted Gilbert, his acting even worse than Francis’s. “Can’t we just enjoy a nice game of laser tag, too?”   
Arthur clenched his jaw, the seemingly infinite river of snappy insults inside his head running dry. Truthfully, there was no real reason as to why Gilbert, Francis, and Antonio couldn’t be at the laser tag arena. Arthur had immediately assumed that the BTT’s motives for coming were malicious.

_ Maybe I was just antagonizing them too much.  _

_ As long as they don’t bother us, it should all work out.  _

Arthur really hoped to spend some quality time with his American friend, preferably alone. (But it  _ really  _ didn’t mean anything special. He just needed to take a break from his work, that was all! Besides, how long had it been since they’d done anything like this together?) 

After Antonio was forced to pay for all three of them, (supposedly the result of losing a bet with Gilbert,) the employee led the people in the lobby into the next room. Arthur noticed that apart from himself, Alfred, Gilbert, Antonio, and Francis, the entire group was made of children. 

Unlike Alfred (who didn’t seem too bothered at all,) Arthur was slightly embarrassed. He wished Alfred had offered to take him to a quiet café or a library, instead. 

The employee cleared his throat and pointed to the T.V. screen attached to the opposite wall. “Make sure to pay attention, kay? Don’t break any of the rules and you’ll be fine.” 

The safety video began to play, with the overly-enthusiastic female voiceover pressing the idea of how running, jumping, and/or climbing inside the arena were war-crime level atrocities and being promptly ignored by basically everyone inside the room. 

Lining the two longer walls were rows of vests with guns attached. Arthur fumbled around with the gear while his “friends” (the term was used very loosely) easily put it on. 

“God— why can’t I—” Arthur swore under his breath, trying to make sense of the mess of the strange plastic-velcro contraption he was supposed to use. “ _ Fucking _ —”

“You do it like this.” A pair of arms slid the vest over Arthur’s head and fastened the cables so it fit properly. 

Arthur felt his cheeks heat up, a feeling that he was all-too-familiar with. Especially when dealing with a certain  _ somebody… _

He stared at Alfred for a brief moment— those blue eyes were practically  _ glowing  _ in the dim light. 

“Er—” Arthur was at a loss for words. There was something so strange about Alfred that made him go all flustered and tongue-tied. “T-thanks…”   
Right before he was shoved into the arena, Arthur noticed three pairs of eyes staring at him knowingly. 

Green, magenta, and indigo. 

Arthur sucked in a deep breath. 

_ Oh, this is a game alright. And I intend to win. _

_ I’ll just need to lose those three idiots on the way.  _

* * *

Once Alfred entered the arena, he came to the realization that he and Arthur were on completely separate teams. 

The vest Alfred was wearing glowed bright green, a green that reminded him of a certain  _ somebody _ ’s eyes, contrasting the blue light he remembered seeing coming from Arthur’s vest. 

Meanwhile, the Bad Touch Trio had disappeared— most likely ditching the ground floor for the upper level. 

Alfred heard loud, heavy, footsteps coming from behind. He whipped his head around and brought up his gun, but he was too slow. The person had already shot at him and hit the target perfectly, disabling Alfred’s gun for the next 15 seconds. 

_ I let my guard down.  _

_ Can’t let that happen again.  _

Ignoring the raucous cackling of his opponent and established rules to not run, jump, or climb, Alfred escaped the area as quickly as he could. He decided to take the ramp leading to the second floor. 

Once he reached the next level, Alfred encountered a group of kids on the blue team huddled in a circle. Thankfully, none of them saw Alfred coming right before he ambushed them with shots. 

“Haha! Another one for the hero!” Alfred cheered a little too loudly. This captured the attention of a nearby player who instinctively raised his own gun, only to lower it back down once he noticed that Alfred was also on the green team. 

Much to Alfred’s slight surprise, the person actually approached him. While it was a little difficult to tell who exactly the person was in the darkness, Alfred was able to make out enough defining characteristics to identify them as Francis Bonnefoy. 

Francis laughed. “I bet you weren’t expecting me, hm?”

“Well, I mean—” Alfred noticed a glimmer of blue in the distance and felt his heart quicken. “Sorry, no time to talk!” He picked up his gun and dashed over to where the blue light was coming from, careful not to bump into anything or anyone on the way. What he didn’t notice was that Francis was following right behind. 

“Honestly, you thought it would be that easy to get rid of me?” Francis aimed his own gun at the opponent, striking them down instantly before Alfred had the chance to do so himself. 

“Huh. And I thought you Frenchies were just wine-drinking surrender monkeys,” Alfred remarked, quick to change the subject. 

Francis rejected the comment with a wave of his hand. “Only sometimes _ , mon amie.  _ But, I assure you, I can pull my weight when the time comes.” A smirk formed on his face. “Although… I do wonder who led you to believe that.” 

Alfred thought for a moment. It was definitely Arthur, whose impression of Francis appeared to be a little biased. 

“Haha, I’ve got no clue,” Alfred lied. After hearing the obvious implication in Francis’s words about Arthur, Alfred had a strange, fluttery, feeling in his chest. There was a label for that sort of feeling, but he was reluctant to use it. Again, for reasons unknown. 

“Mhmm. As if I believe that.” Francis lowered his gun. “Lying isn’t really your strong suit.” 

Alfred’s mind was so… confused. His thoughts were all deafeningly loud inside his head— and they all contradicted each other, too. 

“I… I dunno. Arthur’s been acting so weird, and I’m starting to think that…'' Alfred started to pace back and forth, showing no regards to the visible, flashing conglomerate of blue and green light that was most likely another battle between both sides on the ground floor. “...I might be acting the same way.”

“ _ Tres interessant.  _ Now, I’m not an expert, but—” Francis sighed and rolled his eyes, giving up the humble facade. “Oh, who am I kidding. I totally  _ am _ an expert at this. Anyway, I am 99% sure that Arthur is head-over-heels in love with you.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped in surprise. 

_ What? _

_ He… _

_ I… _

_ Huh? _

“That— that doesn’t make any sense! He’s always telling me how much he hates me, how could he—” 

“Alfred, do you know what a  _ tsundere  _ is?” interrupted Francis. 

Alfred did, in fact, know what a  _ tsundere  _ was, thanks to his frequent late-night anime marathons with Kiku. But he couldn’t even fathom that such a cheesy, overblown, trope in Asian media could actually manifest itself in real life. 

“Yeah,” Alfred replied after a short pause. 

“Good. Now, here’s something that I suggest you do…”

* * *

Arthur was actually holding up quite well. He had shot down hordes of his green-vested enemies without getting shot himself, (with the exception being that one time at the very beginning of the game, although he was willing to overlook that one. He was still getting used to it!) Laser tag was much more enjoyable than Arthur had originally assumed. 

_ I suppose it wouldn’t be too difficult when your opponents are all schoolchildren _ , Arthur thought as he leaned against a pillar. He was taking a short, well-deserved, break from all the running and shooting. 

His peace was short-lived, unfortunately enough. Another person was advancing towards him— Arthur drew his gun out once he caught sight of the flashing green lights on their vest. 

“Hey.” 

Arthur lowered the gun.  _ That voice seems oddly familiar.  _

He was greeted by a pair of blue eyes peeking out from behind silver-framed lenses. 

_ Alfred?  _

_ Come to think of it, I haven’t seen him once ever since we entered the arena.  _

_ Oh, well. This should be an easy shot.  _

Arthur pointed his gun at Alfred once again. 

“Whoa, I’m not gonna shoot, I swear!” Alfred held both hands up in surrender. “See?”

Arthur huffed and lowered the gun, albeit a little more cautiously this time. “Fine. I won’t shoot if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

No one said anything for the next few seconds. 

Arthur stared blankly at the wall in front of him, not noticing Alfred coming closer.

And closer. 

And closer, still. 

Until their bodies were mere centimeters apart. 

Arthur flinched, his eyes wide in surprise. “W-what are you—”

“Doing what I should have done. For a really long time.” 

And then their lips met in a sweet and passionate kiss. 

Arthur never knew he needed it— he was melting into the kiss like a starved man. 

It was so magical. So… incredible. Their vests were glowing, leaving them surrounded by flashing lights of blue and green. 

If it was a dream, Arthur never wanted to wake up.

_ Such a long time… I never thought he would… _

_ I never thought  _ **_I_ ** _ would... _

_ But I am.  _

Eventually, Alfred pulled away, his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

Arthur was barely given any time to register anything before Alfred suddenly drew out his gun and shot him, laughing devilishly as he watched the Brit seethe. 

“You  _ twat _ !” Arthur yelled, even though he wasn’t really all that angry. “What did you do?!”

Alfred winked. “Also doing what I should have done; for a really,  _ really,  _ long time.”

“Idiot,” Arthur muttered. "I hate you _so_ much." 

“I love you, too.” 


End file.
